


The painting

by my_idiot_stories



Category: Original Work
Genre: (sort of), Eavesdropping, Gen, I hope you like it, Rain, Slice of Life, city life, cranky and sarcastic narrator, i didn't change anything at all, i thought it would be interesting to see if i've improved, please check the notes before reading!, so...i dug this up, this is something i wrote years ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 04:46:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18381242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_idiot_stories/pseuds/my_idiot_stories
Summary: Walking home in the rain. Wonderful.





	The painting

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a couple years ago for my english class. basically what we had to do was come up with a short story in under 30 minutes based on a piece of art. unfortunately, i've never been able to find the painting i used as inspiration for this. it was a very colorful oil painting of a cityscape with a group of people standing on the sidewalk on the right, most of them with umbrellas. this story is about the one person who was in the distance (definitely not the focus of the painting) without an umbrella. i found some similar peices of art you can check out to help you picture it:
> 
> [example 1](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwj167bKv73hAhWXHjQIHVTfAO4Qjhx6BAgBEAM&url=https%3A%2F%2Fm.dhgate.com%2Fproduct%2Funframed-canvas-prints-russian-federation%2F376559288.html&psig=AOvVaw2-sX7oayB0ehmMWeoWNT_d&ust=1554709793119236)
> 
> [example 2](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjf7dvav73hAhXyOn0KHZ15AiEQjhx6BAgBEAM&url=https%3A%2F%2Ffineartamerica.com%2Ffeatured%2Fstreet-of-the-old-town-palette-knife-oil-painting-on-canvas-by-leonid-afremov-leonid-afremov.html&psig=AOvVaw2-sX7oayB0ehmMWeoWNT_d&ust=1554709793119236)
> 
> [example 3](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwi826OowL3hAhWoIjQIHb7xCewQjhx6BAgBEAM&url=https%3A%2F%2Fafremov.com%2Fstrong-autumn-rain-1.html&psig=AOvVaw23SUuLWDvj_p9HbhnI0P1s&ust=1554710016407642)

Great. Even after a year of living in this rainy city, I’m still stupid enough to forget my umbrella when I go to work. Maybe if I walk faster I won’t get as wet. Okay, let’s work our way up to a nice steady jog…

I zoom passed the enormous skyscrapers as I start going faster. The sidewalk underneath my feet is glistening with rain, showing me a distorted reflection of myself. Should I be going this fast?

Aaaaaand, of course, just as I was thinking that, I slip and fall on the slick pavement and into a puddle. “Oof!” I exclaim. Do I need a wet floor sign warning me everywhere I go? I sigh and lift myself back up. My jacket is wet, my pants are wet, and now my legs are cold. Another fantastic thing about today.

Wait, where am I? I guess I was so focused on running, I forgot to check where I was going. Looking in front of me, I see a group of about fifteen people. All of them have umbrellas. They must be used to living here.

One man is walking away from the crowd, towards me. He shows no emotion as we come closer. I have absolutely no reason to dislike this stranger, but the very presence of that object held above his head taunts me and I scowl at him. He passes me without saying a word. Good thing he didn’t notice me. 

I stand still for a while, staring at this group. Why are they all here, together? Are they waiting for a ride? Whatever the case may be, there’s nothing I’ll get out of standing here in the rain all night. I start to walk forward.

I hear some of their conversations as I get closer. “My son just went off to college. You’re so lucky you still have…” the voice trailed off as I got farther away.

“Do you think we did the right thing, Honey? We are only…” the voice trailed off.

I kind of wanted to follow that last couple out of curiosity. But one of the qualities I pride myself in is my non-creepiness. So I keep walking. A man and a woman sharing an umbrella look over at me as I step closer. They smile slightly, and I do my best to nod once and smile back, even if I don’t feel like it.

I’m cold. I’m tired. I want the rain to stop. I want my shoes to stop squeaking. Can I just teleport home?

“There’s no place like home,” I whisper, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place…” I stop halfway through the sentence. I see a silhouette of a person walking towards me. More of their features stand out as we both near the closest lamppost. Dark shoulder length hair, a round face, and a black leather jacket.

“C’mon, slowpoke! What’s the matter with ya?” she asks me. I chuckle a little. That’s my sister. Always here to help. Always here to call me names. I love it.

Mostly because she lets me ride in her car.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to post something but since i haven't had time to finish my miraculous ladybug fic...here we are! keep in mind i didn't edit this at all since i wrote it years ago so if it seems worse than my other stuff, that's probably why :P  
> but let me know what you thought. i love getting comments!


End file.
